The Calamity of Caring
by Inks Inc
Summary: Captain Raymond Holt had happily spent his entire working life as an efficiently emotionless emperor. But then life decided to throw one Detective Jake Peralta across his path. Desperately, he tries to deny any feelings towards his incorrigible underling. But when Jake's job is put on the line, all bets are off. Warning: Spanking/References to Spanking. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

"Perlata."

There it was. His name but yet, so much more, uttered in that terrifying timbre of calmness that only the trained ear could discern as anything but. Jake froze with the congealing muffin in his hand and slowly turned on his heel. Amy cautiously threw her file on the tottering pile between their two desks and muttered something about a witness interview. Jake watched her go with a sinking stomach. There was no witness interview. Her new name would be Salazar upon her return. "I would like to see you in my office. I have issues that require discussion. In my office… as I believe I have just stated."

Jake nodded at the smooth, emotionless and yet emotional speech and with worms slithering in his stomach, threw the muffin in the trash can and sloped after the straight backed Holt. The imposing man sat behind his desk with his usual rigidity and motioned for Jake to close the door on his entrance. Feeling rather like he was closing the door on the only people who could and would testify to his murder, Jake did so with a certain reluctance before coming to land in his usual spot before the man with a raised brow.

"What can I do for you, Captain?" He grinned. "O Captain! My Captain!…what can I do for thee?"

Interlocking his fingers as he always did, Raymond studied his most complex of detectives with an uncomfortable scrutiny. Jake began to feel the tell tale beads of sweat pop up at the base of his neck but he studiously ignored them. He'd put a lot, a hell of a lot of work into cultivating an image that wasn't intimidated by Raymond Holt and he would not betray that image now. Racking his brains throughout the sombre silence for any transgressions he may or may not have committed in the last month, he was coming up blank. In fact, by his standards, he'd been positively angelic. He'd even filed half of his paperwork on time with minimal mustard stains. And he'd stopped complaining about the horrendous tie range that adorned his neck. Granted, it had taken him several months to stop doing so, but he had.

"Perlata. At a rough estimate, and I do mean a rough estimate…I appreciate your affinity with mathematics is as poor as your inclination to follow instruction, would you say you've obeyed the letter of my orders without quarrel?" Jake cocked his head, reminding Raymond against his will of a very cute labradoodle. He pushed that image from his mind as he stared down his most challenging underling. Staring back at the staring face, Jake's brow puckered in confusion. "Uhh….could you repeat the question in a more uhh…Perlata friendly manner, Captain?"

Raymond resisted the urge to do something as irascible as twitch his facial muscles. He could not descend into baboon territory. "Certainly. How about this: Why can you never do as you are told?" Jake blinked. Well, it _was_ more understandable at least. He was silent as he considered the query. In his opinion, he always did as he was told. Sure, he might not do it exactly in the _way_ he was told, but he definitely got the job done. Repressing a sigh, he shook his head. "I don't think that I never do as I'm told, Captain," he countered with a winning smile, "Just last week for example, you told me to get rid of Henrietta. And although it caused me great heartache, pain and many sleepless nights, I did just as you asked. Henrietta…rest her soul…is gone."

"Henrietta was an obese, unfriendly centipede."

"She was my obese, unfriendly centipede."

Raymond's nostrils quivered but he quickly reined in his outrageous loss of temper. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back in his chair and cast his x-ray gaze upon the now pouting Peralta once more. He could not deny that the heat he was catching on behalf of his detective was beginning to sizzle at him. Jake's escapades had not gone unnoticed by the upper echelon and he was growing weary of scathing email after scathing email. The last one had even contained a series of uppercase expletives. He shuddered at the memory and resolved to harden his stance.

"Peralta you are upsetting those who ought not to be upset."

Jake blinked.

"I ate Terry's yoghurt the _one_ time Captain, I swear. And he busted me down to desk jockey for a week for it. And it wasn't even Greek strained, it was some awful supermarket blend. I was doing him a _favour_ so if that is what this is about then-"

"You ate Terry's yoghurt? Are you a mad man Perlata?"

Jake winked and cocked his head.

"I've been known to ride the wild waves. Back at the academy-"

"Quite fascinating," Holt interrupted. "But I would prefer if we were not to be distracted from the task at hand. Perlata, the reason I have called you in here today is not pleasant. I have been harbouring a secret from you for a long time now but I can harbour it no more. There are people, important people, who are growing weary of your…unorthodox method of policing. They also show signs of exasperation in relation to your inability to follow direct, uncomplicated orders." He paused as he saw the involuntary look of hurt cross Jake's face and felt the distinct tingling of annoyance when he found he cared. He would rather die, and he was a literal man, than have the maddening detective in front of him find out that he was by a clear country mile, his favourite. He'd never had one before, all those under his command sort of blurring into one. But the nine-nine had changed that for him. He pushed away all the wild _emotions_ he was feeling and took a great deep breath.

"They wish for me to rectify the issue. If I do not, they will rectify it for me."

Jake gulped.

"Rectify it for you?"

Holt nodded gravely and the unspoken implication shone in the understanding in Jake's eyes. He shook his head internally. If Kevin could see the weeping mess he was becoming he would be horrified. He stiffened in his chair as if this would somehow restore his sense of detached indifference. But the bravado-less and downright thin words that washed over him had him slouching like a mad man once again.

"They want you to fire me?"

He couldn't lie. He would not, not to him. He cleared his throat.

"Yes. They do."

Jake's entire body sagged and his face drained. Holt felt a terribly terrifying surge of emotion.

"But I have another idea."

…..

A/N: Two or three shot I think. I've recently binged B99 and loved the Holt/Jake relationship. This is gonna be a lot more light hearted than some of my other fic's but still hone in on that adorable father/son relationship that kinda reminds me of JD/Dr Cox. Anyhow, hope you guys enjoyed!

_Inks

….


	2. Chapter 2

Jake tilted his head once more, his chipper demeanour moderately dampened as he stood in confusion. The fact that the top brass wanted him out wasn't a shock _per se,_ but it still sucked pretty darn hard. Pretty darn hard indeed. "What other idea?" he asked slowly, unable to keep a wavering note of hesitation out of his voice. The Captain wasn't exactly renowned for his thinking outside of the box, but then again, a box where his job was on the line wasn't exactly a good starting position. He watched with a poor attempt at a nonchalant grin as Raymond interlaced his fingers with a certain stiffness that indicated how nervous _he_ was. His pinky finger trembled slightly. That, for Holt, was akin to running butt naked through the streets of New York.

"Peralta. I am going to cut to the chase. I think you would benefit from unorthodox, illegal and secretive corporal punishment."

Jake blinked.

"Say what now?"

Holt grimaced and inched forwards in the chair. This was the second most awkward conversation of his entire life and he was behaving like a madman, leaning forwards from the approved seating position with abandon. His heart even had the audacity to quicken its beat as he struggled to find the words, but find the words he would. A single bead of perspiration escaped his more uncouth left temple as he opened and closed his mouth a whopping three times before speaking again, much to Jake's mounting horror and bewilderment.

"I am going to give you a choice."

The air in the room suddenly seemed to vibrate as Holt swallowed deeply.

"A choice between bending over this desk and having your behind set alight with a paddle that you will not ask why I have, or the unemployment line." He leant back in the chair and rubbed his temples.

"I guess you could say your choice is between a red behind or a pink slip."


	3. Chapter 3

Jake stared and stared some more, before settling in to stare a little bit longer. Holt, for his part, was uncharacteristically patient and did not prompt the issue. He merely sat quietly, interlinked fingers supporting his chin as he surveyed his underling with an almost emotional glint in his eye. Blinking away such a nonsense quickly, he settled for a passive observation. Eventually coming to, Jake snapped his head up from the ground and when he spoke; his voice was far from the class clown persona he so carefully cultivated. "You…you want to beat me?"

Holt felt a pang in his gut as he shook his head vehemently.

"No, Peralta, far from it. I don't _want_ to beat you and _beat_ you I will not. But…I do feel like I _have_ to _spank_ you, far from wanting to, but needing to. For your own good, however clichéd that may be. I would rather I caused some pain to your behind than for you to go through the pain of losing that badge I know means so much to you." He settled back in his chair and thought deeply at the panicked look on the boy's face. "When I said that I was offering you the choice of a pink slip or being paddled over my desk, perhaps I should have offered a third option. It is not an option that originally occurred to me because it is…wildly unusual for me to even entertain the idea of such physical contact, but…I may make an exception. If it makes things….easier for you. I will add that third option now. You can choose a pink slip, a paddling or…I can strategically position you across my knee and spank you with only my hand, if that would be less…clinical, for you."

Jake felt the air tickle his tonsils as he gaped.

"Peralta…Jake, listen to me." Holt adopted a gentler tone that only made the young officer gape even further. "You are a talented cop, with the potential to go very far. But you are your own worst enemy. You cannot alienate the upper echelon and expect to climb the ladder. As distasteful as it is, there are sacrifices involved in getting to a position that someone like ought to be occupying. You can do the most good with the most clout, and you are never going to get that clout if you keep going the way you are going. You are going to end up a security guard at an abandoned store yard, if you're lucky. You lack discipline, you lack consequences. I am merely telling you that I am here to enforce that discipline, teach you self discipline and execute those consequences. I appreciate that it is not orthodox, but you are never going to learn from a stern talking to and a few weeks desk duty. You need a firm hand, and I think you know it. Show me you know it."

Something in Jake suddenly snapped, and he was talking before he knew it.

"Please….don't paddle me….I, before, I….please don't…."

Holt immediately held up his hands, sensing something in the past and determining to be safe.

"Think no more about the paddle I mentioned, Jake, it is gone. Never to be mentioned again." Nodding numbly, there was a sudden urge to just get it over and done with within the young cop. He was acting on impulse, not detailed reason as he breathed deeply. Nothing Holt had told him was news to him. He knew he was juvenile, immature and had the ability to self destruct. And ever since the last disastrous meeting with his father, he'd been spiralling and he knew it. And how bad could a simple spanking be? He didn't need to ask Holt whether he would keep it confidential, he already knew he would. Swallowing deeply, he crossed the room. Locking the door and pulling the blinds, he spread his arms wide in submission.

"I guess you really are never too old for a spanking."

Feeling an inordinate surge of pride burst within him, Raymond nodded and in a few strides had removed a straight back chair from the corner of the room, placing it in the dead centre. Draping his decorated jacket over the back, he sat and unfurled the crisp white sleeve of his right arm and crooked a finger over at a nervously awaiting Jake. He knew the last the thing the kid needed was to analyse things to death, he needed instruction and certainty. "Come here, Jake. Remove your jacket and drop your jeans. You may retain your undershorts, I will remove them myself." He issued these instructions in the same tone he assigned cases, no nonsense and no fuss. Biting his lip, Jake responded to the authoritative tone as Holt had known he would. Shrugging out of his leather jacket and leaving it in a pool on the floor, he shuffled to Holt's side and fumbled with the clasp of his jeans. The minute the pooled around his knees, Raymond reached out and neatly upended the boy over his knee.

It took precisely two seconds for the first brisk swat to fall on the short clad bottom.

One arm was comfortably holding Jake in place as Holt fell into a steady rhythm as if he had spanked Jake every day for the last year. He didn't scold, there was no need. For his part, Jake was compliant as the spanking begun. The sting in his rear end was moderate and bearable, but the embarrassment of being upended over Holt's knee like a brat was something else entirely and he knew his face was beet red. But it was nothing compared to the flush that flourished when Holt suddenly pulled his boxer shorts down to his knees, baring his butt in one fell swoop. It was also his cue to speak. "Jake. Now that I have warmed your backside up, I am going to begin you spanking. You may cry all you like, but please refrain from excessive squirming. You are to accept your punishment like a man, and not run away from it. So far, you've been doing an excellent job in doing just that. Just keep it up for me."

Jake's eyes bulged.

 _That was just the warm up?_

The sting wasn't unbearable, but it was certainly present. Gritting his teeth as the first swat cracked down on his bare butt, he just managed to suppress the squawk of pain. Holt wasn't lying. He _was_ just beginning the punishment. Holt was a firm boss, but he was an even firmer spanker. His ability to be detached was both an asset and a tested force in that moment. He couldn't help the strains of…something, at the sounds of Jake's eventual and strangled whimpering. But there was a task at hand and if there was one thing he was, it was a task master. Jake's backside had turned from a pasty pale to a fiery crimson in the three and a half minutes he was draped over his knee. It was intuition that told him Jake was nearly, but not quite there, so with a heavy heart he continued to blister Jake's behind. It was when the rigid back under his arm deflated and the first quiet sob escaped the young cop, that his hand instantly stilled. With ease, he replaced Jake's clothing, before guiding him softly to his feet.

He didn't know who was more shocked with the resulting, crushing hug.

Him or Jake.

Holding the wet faced kid into his chest with a closeness that was historically unprecedented, Holt went a step further into the madness of the moment and rubbed a hand soothingly up and down Jake's back. Murmuring some quiet words of reassurance, he released and stared at him with something that could only be described as _pride._ "You conducted yourself with integrity and self awareness and that in and of itself, is an excellent starting point. I take no pleasure in causing you pain, but I am telling you here and now Jake, I will not hesitate to put you right back over my knee whenever I think you deserve it and need to learn from it. Is that understood? This may not be the most modern of approaches, but I am a admittedly old fashioned and I intend to deal with you as such. Are we clear?"

Jake rubbed a hand across red rimmed eyes, suddenly looking very young, and nodded.

"Yes Captain, it's clear."

Holt stared at the contrite kid and felt a rare smile cross his face.

"Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? Kevin is a truly excellent cook and I'd love to really talk to you about where your career is going. For my sins, I can see you becoming one of these nonsensical protégés everyone is telling me I need. You're a challenge, if nothing else, so why the heck not?" Jake's face visibly brightened and he didn't hesitate to nod. "Seriously?" he asked with a grin. Shaking his head in exasperated fondness, Holt landed a warm hand on each of Jake's shoulders, leading him towards the door. "Seriously," he confirmed. "I'll even put a cushion on your chair? How does that sound?" Jake screwed up his face. "I don't need a cushion, I'm not a baby. I'll survive." Quirking a brow, Holt reached out and swiftly swatted the boy's burning butt, staring pointedly at the loud squawk in response. "You were saying?"

Jake pouted.

"I'll take the cushion, Raymond."

Holts' brows shot up as he reached out to swat the impertinent kid once more, but he dodged away with a grin. Opening the door to Holt's barely scolding "get back to work", he went the full hog and shot the captain a cheery wink as he kept his behind firmly out of reach.

"Gotta keep up Raymond, gotta keep up."

…

FIN

…..


End file.
